


Dead Weight

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Asphyxiation, Choking, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, One Shot, POV Second Person, Prompt Fill, Short One Shot, Suicide, Tumblr Prompt, major character deaths, to be honest it's like...kind of the worst, yes i said deaths plural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:11:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Steve had to kill the Winter Soldier before he knew it was Bucky?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Weight

_Do we have a twenty on the shooter?_  
 _Do we have a twenty on the shooter?_  
 _Do we have a twenty on the shooter?_  
 _Crash._

You’re running down a hallway in the next building over as fast as your legs will take you, which is pretty fast, considering.  
You bank a tight left and smash a dent into the wall with your shield, scattering office papers and desk supplies around you, not thinking, well—okay, sort of thinking, because did someone, or something, just really shoot Nick, and is that someone really streaking like lightning across a rooftop above you, a bright glint of metal flashing in the corner of your eye, just out of reach, if you could only—

_Crash._

You bank a tight corner again, this time it’s a right, and you see ahead of you a short hallway with a big old glass window at the end that you’re gonna smash through in roughly four seconds, and if you timed it right the shooter should be jumping straight onto the rooftop in front of you and—he’s there, he’s there in a hot flash of silver and black, you brace yourself and feel the glass shatter around you—

_Crash._

Head tucked, arms in, a quick roll and then you bring your arm up and throw your shield _hard_ , and he turns around and catches it, looks at you with…fear? With fear. But also anger. And maybe something else, you can’t place it right now because he’s barreling toward you with the shield at his side, arm tensed, and then he’s right there and you put up your arm to defend yourself without remembering that _you don’t have your shield_ and he reminds you where it is by slamming it hard into your chest, sending you flat on your back. 

You feel his weight settle suddenly onto you, and you know what’s going to happen before it happens, and then it does; a tight, mean pressure on your throat, and he’s straddling you with heels tucked under your shins and you know that there’s very little chance of throwing him off because he’s got you good _~~(you learned this in the army, you learned this when you slaughtered Hydra agents left and right after he died)~~_ , and struggling will just deplete the very limited, steadily declining amount oxygen you have. Your arms are free…but you don’t want to do what you could do _~~(what you used to do)~~_ …it’s against everything you believe in, everything you stand for…you try to think of another way out but the level of oxygen getting to your brain is making thinking impossible. So your survival instincts kick in. And your arms wheel up and grab him around his neck and you see his eyes widen in surprise and there _is_ something _~~(a familiarity? A crinkle in the corners you’ve drawn a hundred times?)~~_ , and he starts to scream your name, _your name_ , in the most anguished voice and his cry is cut suddenly short as his neck snaps under your fingertips.

You let go.

He falls on top of you. Heavy. Dead weight. 

He screamed your name. 

You see your hands shaking. You roll him off and retch on hands and knees. Seconds pass, minutes pass, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. He knew you. 

You turn, look at him. He’s motionless. The part of his face you can see is already pale with death and you’ve seen this too many times but this one feels different and you feel so sick and his eyes are still open and they’re beautiful _~~(you’ve filled sketchbooks with them)~~_. He looks…like he’s seen a ghost. And now he is one.

With trembling hands you close his eyes. His skin feels already wrong, too room-temperature to the touch. Lukewarm. You fight back the bile rising again in your throat as you place both hands around his jaw mask and carefully, almost reverently remove it.

You set it aside and look him in the face for the first time.

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

 

_D.C., July 18.—Steven Grant Rogers, the Shield Operative and Hero known as Captain America to most, was found dead early this morning on the sidewalk outside his D.C. apartment. Medical examiners and police officials report that his death is being confirmed as a suicide. Doctor Anna Morris, who arrived at the scene within minutes, has stated that, “[Roger’s] death is unmistakably a suicide…the injuries sustained post-mortem conclusively reveal that he jumped from the rooftop.” So far, we have not been able to contact any of the Avengers for a statement, but officials at [continued on page A2]_

_(Warren, Cameron. “Captain America’s Mysterious Suicide: Mourning One of Our Nation’s Greatest Heroes”. Washington Post. 18 July, 2014. Print.)_

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it through this i'm actually genuinely impressed and sorry.  
> my prompt, sent from my friend [Hannah](http://steviebucks.tumblr.com), was "stevebucky: death" and this was my response.  
> [you can find me on tumblr, i understand if you want to yell at me](http://barnvs.tumblr.com)


End file.
